


It's 2018, Fellas. Be Weird.

by AidaRonan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adult Situations, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Comedy, M/M, Metal Arm Kink, Sex Mishaps, established relationships - Freeform, metal arm mishaps, stucky is literally stucky, um Tony this is embarrassing but uhhhhh, you probably shouldn't read this if you have really bad issues with secondhand embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidaRonan/pseuds/AidaRonan
Summary: Things went awry in stages.Stage one: Steve accidentally revealed that he had a bit of a thing for the metal arm. (He felt really, really bad about it.)Stage two: Bucky smirked at this discovery. (This was never a good thing.)Stage three: The metal plates calibrated. (This was the absolute worst thing.)Stage four: Tony answered the door of his apartment to find them wrapped in a blanket outside. (Now, that's interesting.)Or the one where Steve and Bucky try to involve the metal arm in the bedroom and it...doesn't go well.





	It's 2018, Fellas. Be Weird.

**Author's Note:**

> Because one of my friends said she didn't understand the metal arm kink. Too many moving parts. And I maybe thought that was hilarious. 
> 
> Sorry, boys. <3

In retrospect, Steve should have always known that a smirk from Bucky Barnes would not end in good news. He’d been living with that smirk his whole life, and it always, inevitably and without fail, got him into trouble. (Or at least made whatever trouble Steve had already gotten himself into worse.)

It all went back to the metal arm. Shiny and silver and calling to Steve in a way that he felt really, really bad about. That arm represented decades of torture. It represented Hydra pushing out Bucky Barnes and rebuilding him to be nothing but a weapon. Mindless and obedient. That was how he should view it. As a horrible souvenir from the worst parts of Bucky’s history.

And if he sometimes looked at it and couldn’t help but imagine it running down his chest, sliding up the back of his thigh, ghosting over his lips.

Well, he’d take all that to the grave if the serum ever let him die.

Or that was the plan anyway. Until Bucky lightly brushed it against somewhere delicate and Steve almost buckled in his arms.

Then, that smirk. Also known as Steve’s fucking doom.

Of course he’d immediately rambled out a hundred apologies, but Bucky would have none of them.

“Hydra would have never let me use this to touch you here,” he said, trailing silver fingertips over Steve’s bare bottom. “You kidding, pal? This is the best.”

All bets were off at that point. There’d been bottles of lube, Bucky whispering “I love you,” and then metal, so much metal. Cool at first but warming in Steve’s heat.

And then the plates calibrated, whirring and shifting, and Steve cried out and not in a fun way. And Bucky swore, also not in a fun way.

“Bucky, Bucky, can you-”

“Shh, shh, hold on, I’m gonna try to-”

“Jesus Christ! Stop, stop. Fuck.”

And that’s how Bucky and Steve ended up wrapped in a blanket, carefully walking all the way to Stark tower because what other choice did they have? Give the ER nurse a story that would definitely end up in the Times tomorrow, HIPAA be damned? Take a cab? The subway?  

Nope, on foot was their only option, and it took hours even with them trying to hurry. By the time Jarvis let them in and dumped them on Tony’s floor, they were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Should I alert Mr. Stark to your presence, Captain Rogers?”

“I’ll knock, thanks,” Steve said.

“My shoulder is killing me,” Bucky said. 

“Your shoulder.” Steve laughed in a desperate sort of way, groaning a little because nope, laughing hurt so so much.

As promised, he did knock.

“Betsy Ross’s Wet Dream, from Russia with Love,” Tony answered, “what brings you to my humble and opulent abode this evening? You both look like shit by the way.”

“Uh, Tony.” Steve scratched at the back of his neck, briefly hating his entire life for bringing him to that point. “You, uh, you’ve done some weird things, right? Sexually?”

To his horror, Tony’s face started to light up, delight slowly blooming on his features.

“I once let an entire professional cheerleading squad put pom poms-”

“We don’t need details, Stark,” Bucky said.

“What’s with the fresh-from-the-sleepover getup?” Tony asked. “Why didn’t anyone invite me over to gossip and braid each others’ hair?”

“Can we come in?” Steve asked, and Tony stepped aside, letting them both figure out how to fit through the door. Great. As if it wasn’t already a mess of an evening, having to side-shuffle into Tony’s apartment as one unit made Steve feel more undignified than he ever had in his life.

Tony, always too smart for anyone’s good, smiled broadly. Giddy like a child.

“His metal arm’s stuck up your ass, isn’t it?”

“I hate you,” Bucky said. “But yes.”

“This is the best day I’ve had all week,” Tony said. “No, scratch that, this is the best day I’ve had ever. Jarvis, play something peppy.”

“Stark.” Bucky grit his teeth. The speakers started to pump out something very upbeat and very electronic. Tony followed the beat with his finger, bobbing his head.

“Nat owes me two hundred dollars,” Tony said. “I knew you two were boning. Before now, right? Back in the war too?”

“Tony, I don’t know if you know this, but this isn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever experienced,” Steve said.

“Fine, come in here.”

Tony turned around and motioned with his hand. They shuffled behind him, side-stepping down the hallway. Somewhere along the way, Steve started hoping the whole thing was just a weird nightmare and he’d wake up any second with Bucky curled around him. Anywhere but half-naked in the middle of Tony's office.  

“You’re gonna have to lose the duvet, gentlemen.” Tony still looked far too pleased. Thank God Nat threatened him with dismemberment after his first and only attempt at an Avengers newsletter. “Let’s see the damage.”

Reluctantly, they let the blanket drop. Steve covered himself with his hands, trying to maintain some kind of modesty considering there was no avoiding-

Tony circled around behind him, whistling quietly.

“Three, Cap? Never realized you were so greedy,” he said. “Anyhow, what went wrong? Is it always Cap, or do you switch it up? No, don't answer that.”

“I’m an idiot,” Bucky said, ignoring the rest of Tony's questions, a blush creeping across his neck. “Must have moved my hand wrong. Plates calibrated.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Steve grunted.

“I’ll assume you already tried to make them calibrate again.”

“You’d assume right.”

“I’ll be right back.”

They waited for him to return, Steve tilting his head over on Bucky’s shoulder because what else was he supposed to do? Bucky leaned over into him, reaching up to awkwardly pet him with his other arm.

Honestly, Steve had no idea how Tony would handle this. Would he come back with more tools? Surgical equipment and enough morphine to knock out a gorilla?

He got his answer quickly, Tony slipping back into the room holding only a small box.

“I made these for Nat, but she’ll get over it.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“It’s probably for the best actually if I don’t warn you. Brace yourself.”

He opened the box and tossed a tiny metal disk at Bucky’s arm. At that, there was a moment of short-lived pain, nothing at all compared to everything else he'd dealt with up to that point, and then he slid off Bucky and onto the floor with some kind of strangled-but-relieved sigh. Bucky grunted and pried the disk off his arm like a tick he picked up in the woods.

“Oh good, I wasn’t sure that would work,” Tony said. “No need for plan B then.”  

Bucky looked wholly ready to commit a murder, balling his metal hand up into a fist and then releasing it, the plates calibrating all the way up his arm, the whirs much louder than usual. One glare at Tony, and he knelt down on the floor and wrapped Steve up in the blanket. Steve was shaking, but it was over. Mostly anyway.  

His body was already healing—at least he had that going for him—though his pride might take a lot longer to mend. 

“I can probably build you some kind of freaky robot sex glove if you want. No finger joints,” Tony said. “Anything for a couple of war heroes.”

“Think we’ll just go back to leaving the arm out of that picture,” Bucky said. “But you probably fucked it up again. Last time Nat did that, the Hydra techs had to-”

“Well, assuming the mood is completely dead, I can take a look at it. Or would you two like a moment alone, pick up where you left off? I could probably end world hunger if I auctioned off some of the furniture after.”

“Can I borrow some pants?” Steve asked, pulling the duvet tighter around him.

“Only if you tell me whether or not you two were boning in the war,” Tony said.  

“We’ve been taking trips to the moon since our twenties, Stark. Lots of forbidden drives up the old dirt road, alright. Get him some pants, Tony, please.”

“Okay, but I have to write a strongly-worded e-mail to an old history professor. Jarvis, what was that guy’s name?”

“Professor Beauregard, sir.”

“Dear Professor Old Money, Probably from Slaves. No scratch that. Dear…” But Tony was already out of the room, his voice fading.

Bucky slid farther down onto the floor and pulled Steve close.

“Sorry about that, Stevie,” he said. “Just got excited. Sam told me it might be a good idea to re-associate the arm with something nice, rescue some kittens or pull a truck off someone. But you—couldn’t think of anything nicer than you. You were always the best thing I ever had in my whole life.”

“I’m not mad at you, Buck,” Steve said. He’d wanted it just as much as Bucky had, after all. More maybe. “I might kill Tony before we get out of here though.”

“Well, I am really, really good at making things look like an accident.”

“I probably shouldn’t encourage that line of thinking," Steve said. "But I am tempted." 

“How bad was it?” Bucky asked.

“I give it at least another ten minutes.”

“Prototype,” Tony said, stepping back into the room with a pair of black sweats. “For your morning runs, since bad guys are notoriously rude and don’t always wait for a costume change. No respect for theatrics, honestly.”

“Thanks, I think,” Steve said, and Bucky helped him slip them on while Tony pretended to be suddenly interested in the Manhattan skyline.

“They can stop most bullets,” Tony said. “Brought you a present too, Westworld.”

He offered a package to Bucky, the word Purel splashed across the front of the plastic.

“Wet wipe. For the-” He wiggled his fingers in the air.

Bucky took it reluctantly and used one to wipe down his metal fingers and the joints between. They whirred again, the whole thing stirring violently all the way up to his shoulder. He twitched. 

“Yeah, that definitely sounds fucked,” Tony said, patting the top of his desk. “Hop up.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said. Steve looked solid as a rock already. But Bucky could tell when he looked too solid, when he was clearly masking the pain. He’d grown up with a Steve Rogers who never stopped hurting, after all.

“Not gonna heal any faster with you sitting there,” Steve said.

“Shut your hole, Stevie.”

“He has a point, Old Glory. Might have prevented this whole predicament,” Tony said. “Then again, I’m a sucker for a good forbidden romance.”

“I could kill you at least three ways before you knew I was coming,” Bucky said. “At least a dozen more if I decided to let you put up a fight.”

“Testy.” Tony clicked his tongue. Bucky turned his attention back to Steve. 

All in all, it took a couple more minutes for Steve to actually get up off the floor and make his way to a chair. Then and only then did Bucky let Tony open up the arm and replace a few fried wires. 

“If you ever want an upgrade, Reynolds Wrap, give me a call,” Tony said. “And I wasn’t kidding. About the freaky robot sex glove. It’s 2018, fellas. Be weird. Oh, have you tried vibrati-”

“Good-bye, Tony,” Steve said, the duvet folded in his arms.

They were halfway back to their apartment on the subway when Steve looked at him and quietly asked, “What do you think it is? That, uh, vibrates?”

“Stevie, you freak,” Bucky said. “What has the future done to you?”

But he was grinning.

A week later, a small nondescript box arrived at their apartment.

_You know where it goes. - T_

Yeah, Bucky was definitely gonna disappear him. But first…

He ripped open the box and went to find Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on the tumblr at [bisexualstarbucky](www.bisexualstarbucky.tumblr.com) if you want to come yell your headcanons or just send me pics of your cats. 
> 
> I'm on Twitter now too [@BiStarBucky](http://www.twitter.com/bistarbucky).
> 
> Comments make this hellscape of a planet a little brighter, so feel free to throw some down below. xoxo


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